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Once upon a time the Kingdoms of Perrault and the Moors lived in peace. The fairies of the Moors were good neighbors to the humans of Perrault. They studied good magic, using it to help the sick and wounded. Creating medicines for the humans from the flowers of their enchanted forest. In return, the humans traded them goods their craftsman made and protected the forest from other neighboring kingdoms.

It is worth noting that these fairies were not like the ones you might know from tales. Not like the little pixies that the fairies of the Moors often get confused with. They were not the size of a small bird, but instead, the fairies were about the same size as the humans. But they had glorious wings, like dragonflies. And they had a real respect and love for nature.

It was a good peace, benefiting both the humans and the fairies. And it lasted for many, many years. Until King Henry came to power. He was not like his father, the Good King Richard. Richard had lived for a long time, longer then most humans. By the time he died, he was over a hundred years old. Which meant that King Henry waited many years to claim his birthright.

When he finally was crowned king, Henry was almost seventy. And he realized quickly he did not care for being compared to his father. His father had ruled for seventy five years. He had a grand legacy. King Henry wanted one as well. He decided he would expand his kingdom. And the first place he set his eyes on was the Moors.

-----------------------------

Her name wasn't always Maleficent. It was the name she adopted later. After she had lost so much. Her original name was Mallie and she was a fairy. A good fairy, once upon a time.

Mallie was recently crowned Queen of the Moors. Her mother, Talia, had passed on and Mallie had taken her birthright. It was a title she was not used to. Not yet. It felt odd to her for everyone to call her 'your Majesty'. Or to look to her for advice and guidance. She missed her mother. Talia had been so wise. Mallie wasn't sure if she could ever live up to that legacy.

But her friends told her she could. If she would stay true to her heart, she would become a great queen. Just like her mother was.

Of course, Diaval always believed in her. He was her beloved. And he told her she could do anything.

Diaval was a human blacksmith. Their relationship had started because Queen Talia traded medicines with the humans of Perrault in return for goods. One was iron works. Diaval would visit the Moors often with tools and utensils for them. He and Mallie became friends, and, over time, he and Mallie fell in love.

A human and fairy falling in love was not a common relationship. While there was a peace and partnership, it wasn't viewed as normal. Many believed, in both Kingdoms, the species should stick to their own kind for romantic pursuits. But the heart would want what it wanted. And Mallie and Diaval could not stay away from each other.

Thankfully Queen Talia did not hold any prejudices when it came to love. She loved her only daughter dearly and had only wanted Mallie to be happy. Diaval made Mallie happy and she had given her blessing to their union before her passing.

"Hello, your Majesty."

Diaval greeted Mallie with a very exaggerated bow. Mallie giggled at him.

"Stop it you. I am still not used to that title."

She wondered if she ever would be.

"But you should be, you are by far the most beautiful Queen in all the world."

Diaval replied with a grin to her.

"Perhaps, in your eyes. But still, I order you not to call me that."

"And your wish is forever my command."

Diaval said laughing himself and giving Mallie kiss. Although Mallie missed her mother dearly, this moment was perfect. Being with Diaval made every moment perfect.

It was one of the last few happy moments she would have left in her life.

It would always seem ironic to her in hindsight, but the only thing Isobel really looked forward to in her marriage was becoming Blanche's stepmother. Isobel had little interest in men in general, and in particular no interest in one who was sixty years old and could nearly be her grandfather - but that was the marriage her family had arranged, and that was the marriage she would accept. Nor did she have much desire to be the queen. She knew it was a role she would have in name only; she would be queen consort, and would neither rule nor have a place in the succession. The king already had his heir, and Isobel's job was to provide a few spares and keep him entertained. That wasn't a role she relished, though she would do what was expected of her.

No, what she looked forward to was the relationship she expected to have with Blanche. Not mother and daughter, exactly. Blanche's mother was dead, and Isobel knew she could never take her place. She could be a caretaker and guide, though. Isobel had always wanted to be a mother, and in the rosy view of her imaginings, being a stepmother was close enough.

It wasn't until the wedding reception that Isobel had a chance to speak to Blanche for the first time. Isobel was now the wife of King Nial IV - whom she had also only met the day before - and she felt nervous and overwhelmed as the lovely young blonde girl gave her a pretty curtsy.

"I am so thrilled to meet you, my lady!" Blanche said enthusiastically. She rose and gripped Isobel's hand. "Welcome to the family! Shall we dance?"

Isobel found this a little odd, but her new husband was beaming and nodding approvingly, so she gave Blanche what she hoped was a genuine smile and stepped onto the dance floor with her new stepdaughter.

Blanche put her arms around Isobel's waist and leaned closer so her mouth was right by Isobel's ear.

"You are just a toy to my father," Blanche whispered. "All he wants from you is more children, and when you fail to produce them - which I assure you, you will fail to - he will think nothing of discarding you. And as for me, I fully intend to destroy you."

Isobel pulled back from her, shocked. Mere seconds ago, Blanche had seemed so warm and friendly. Now the girl's face was cold, and her eyes were like a snake's.

Blanche smiled again and reached over as if to adjust Isobel's tiara. Instead, she twisted her fingers through Isobel's hair and forced their faces closer again.

"You'll know when the time has come," Blanche told her, inaudible to the reception guests, who would only see a wholesome mother-daughter dance. "Ask that enchanted mirror of yours. Yes, I know you have one, save the lies. Ask it who is the fairest of them all. One day, it will answer that it is me, and you'll know that I have come into my power. Then you can start counting the hours till your death. My father needs no one but me. This kingdom needs no other queen."

Then Blanche tenderly kissed her cheek, released her, and moved off to rejoin her father.

Isobel felt chilled to the bone, deeply unsettled to her core by the girl's wild swing of temperament. She told herself she was being foolish, though. Blanche was an adolescent girl who had lost her own mother, and whose family had just changed significantly. She was probably angry and upset, and more than a little jealous. That didn't mean she was really a threat to anyone. Surely no one could say such cruel things to a near-stranger and mean it?

Isobel stood before her mirror that night, brushing her hair in preparation for her first trip to her new husband's bedchamber. Her jitters were only about the wedding night, she tried to tell herself, and not what Blanche had said. Poor Blanche, who had lost her mother...

Even as the words came out of her mouth, she felt a little silly when she asked her enchanted looking glass, "Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?"

She felt even sillier about the intense relief that washed over her when the mirror replied, "You are, oh queen. Snow White is but a child."

Surely now she could put aside her foolish fears about Blanche's girlish threats...

The king gave a sort of one-shoulder shrug, not even bothering to look up from his dinner plate. "Take some money from the treasury and hire some more if we need extra help. The household is your domain, not mine."

Isobel shook her head, "It's not that, it's just... so odd. We've lost five girls in the past six months. That isn't normal, not with how well we pay them and how well they're treated here. This is a good job. Why would so many just up and leave it?"

Nial shrugged again, his patience wearing thin. "I don't know. Why do servants do what they do? I suppose they just didn't like working here anymore."

"Five in six months? They never even came to collect their final wages. I can't imagine they liked the work so much that they wanted to do so for free. And why only the young women, not the older women or any men? And why..."

Isobel was startled by the backhand when it came, even though it wasn't the first one he'd given her. He seemed to be tiring of her more quickly these days, but it still surprised her that the king would hit her in the middle of dinner. None of the other people in the room reacted at all.

"I told you," Nial said slowly. "I do not know. And it is none of my concern, nor yours. Let it go, Isobel. If you spent half as much time praying for a child as you do meddling in things that don't concern you, we'd have a son or daughter by now."

The comment stung. It was meant to.

The past two years had been difficult ones for Isobel. Nial didn't seem to like her, and she wasn't too fond of him either. She had been unable to produce a child, despite the king's vigorous efforts. Though he had never been cruel to her in the bedchamber, he had always made clear that he saw her as a means to an end... and in his eyes, she was not holding up her end of the bargain.

Things between her and Blanche were even worse. In front of her father or the court, Blanche was all smiles and affection toward Isobel, the perfect stepdaughter. Behind closed doors, it was another story. She was constantly insulting Isobel or trying to goad her into arguments. The problem had escalated to the point that Blanche was now pushing, grabbing, or hitting Isobel when she became upset.

Isobel had tried to go to the king. Of course she had. But he had never believed her, even when he saw the bruises. So convinced that his precious daughter could do no wrong, Nial chose not to see that harm was coming to his wife. Nial had his priorities. Blanche was the main priority, and Isobel was... replaceable.

Nial popped a forkful of food into his mouth, then stared at Isobel. "Perhaps if you had your own child, you wouldn't feel the need to be so horrible to mine," he said.

Isobel was even more shocked by this than the slap. Horrible to Blanche? It had always been the other way around!

"I've been nothing but kind to her..." Isobel insisted, but Nial was holding up his hand for silence. Much as she hated when he did that, she closed her mouth because she didn't want him to hit her again. It was unsettling to know that he could do whatever he wanted to her, and the court would never lift a finger to intervene. Not against their king.

"Blanche has told me everything," Nial said sternly. "How you mock and belittle her. The unkind things you say to her whenever my back is turned. I can only hope you would be a better mother to our baby than you've shown so far. You truly are a wicked stepmother."

Isobel looked down at her plate, but she had no appetite. How could Blanche tell such lies about her? What was wrong with the girl, that she would think nothing of causing so much pain?

Isobel couldn't sleep. She had been tossing and turning for hours, fretting about Nial's dislike for her, about Blanche's aggression, and though she had berated herself over and over for being ridiculous, she couldn't quite get Blanche's threats of two years ago out of her mind. Blanche's behavior in the meantime had been bad, heartless even, but never homicidal. Much as she told herself that she shouldn't get herself tied in knots over what was surely just a teenager acting out - for what else could it be? - the words still echoed in her head.

Finally, Isobel knew sleep was simply not going to come until she did something to ease her anxiety, even though she felt like a fool for playing along with a child's game. She rose from her bed, pulled a robe over her nightgown, and stood before her magic mirror.

"Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?"

There was a pause, then the mirror replied, "Famed is thy beauty, Majesty. But alas, Snow White is more fair than thee."

Isobel drew in her breath. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't. What does it matter who is prettier?

But it was too late for such rational self-correction. This was happening as Blanche had said it would. Isobel might not care about who had nicer looks, but she couldn't pretend she didn't remember that Blanche had tied the mirror's utterances to threats of Isobel's death.

She had to check on Blanche, to see what the "Snow White" maiden was up to. Isobel told herself that once she found Blanche sleeping peacefully in her bed, she could put this whole sorry thing behind her and work even harder on her relationship with her husband and stepdaughter. Somehow, though, she knew deep down that Blanche sleeping peacefully was not what she would find.

Even so, she was shocked when she heard what sounded like a muffled scream as she padded quietly down the hall to Blanche's room. Isobel started to run. Why was Blanche screaming? Just a nightmare, or was she ill, or worse, being hurt by someone?

Isobel flung open the door, but the bedroom was empty. The bed did not appear to have been slept in. Why would Blanche be out of bed in the middle of the night? And where had the scream come from? Was she just hearing things, brought on by her worried state? No, she was sure someone had screamed.

Once her brain had time to fully register what she was seeing, Isobel realized there was a faint glow of lamplight from under the bathroom door. She wrenched it open...

Then put her hand to her mouth, sickened by the sight that greeted her.

Blanche's white nightgown was stained with fresh blood. Blood that was not her own. A servant girl was slumped over the edge of the bathtub. No... the corpse of a servant girl. No one could have survived such a wicked gash to the throat, or the loss of that much blood. There was a thick layer of red at the bottom of the tub.

"What did you do?" Isobel demanded shrilly. "You monster! What did you do?"

Blanche grabbed for Isobel, and Isobel shrieked, but Blanche merely shoved her roughly out of the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

Isobel stood paralyzed in the darkened bedroom, too horrified to act on what she had just seen but knowing she had to do something. Do something...

Tell the king! Yes, she would tell the king! He needed to know about the crime his daughter had committed!

Isobel shook her husband's shoulder urgently as he slowly roused himself and turned to look at her.

"Your majesty, something horrible has happened. Blanche..."

Nial was instantly alert when he heard his daughter's name. "What are you talking about? What happened to Blanche?"

"She... she murdered someone!" Isobel was trying to keep her voice low and her words slow enough to understand. She wanted to just scream and babble. "She had the corpse over the bathtub. A servant girl. Her throat was slit. There was blood all over Blanche..."

Nial nodded. He seemed awfully calm. Isobel wondered if he was in shock.

"Blanche is going through a difficult phase..." Nial said sympathetically.

"I'm telling you she killed--"

"Silence, Isobel. I have not finished speaking. Blanche is going through a difficult phase. Adolescence is never easy, and as you know, she has lost her mother. We must have some consideration for her, and make allowances for her painful circumstances. I had hoped that having a stepmother - a positive female role model - might turn around her behavior, but your lack of compassion and caring for her only made her worse."

Isobel was dumbfounded. The king was really going to blame her for Blanche's actions? And his lack of surprise suggested...

"You knew all along," Isobel said. It was a statement, not a question. "You know what she's been doing. This isn't the first time, is it?"

"I felt it best to allow her to get it out of her system," Nial said. "We must hope she will grow out of it. Children do grow out of such problematic phases. Blanche knows she must confine her... activities... to servants and others of low class who will not be missed, and she has held to that."

"So you're just... letting her kill people and hoping she eventually gets better?" Isobel echoed numbly. This couldn't be real. It felt like a dream.

"If you choose to put it that way, yes," Nial said. "I hope that knowing this, you will make more of an effort to--"

"No!" Isobel was shouting now. "No! I'm not going to just stand by and let her do this. You may not care, but your subjects will. These are their daughters being murdered, their sisters. They have right to know. And once they do, they'll stop her, even if you're too much of a coward."

Nial punched her. Isobel ducked the second punch, but the third caught her just under the orbit of her eye, and she felt bone break. She ran from him, but he was faster than she expected and the skirts of her nightgown hampered her. She gasped as he tightened his hands around her throat.

"You will tell no one," Nial said calmly. "You will not live to do so. I love my daughter. I can easily find a new wife."

Isobel struggled for air, increasingly desperate. She shoved as hard as she could against Nial's chest, throwing him off balance... and he abruptly lost his grip on her throat as he reeled backward and tumbled down the stairs, falling two flights before striking the wall hard. From the angle of his neck - Isobel realized with sick dread - he was likely never going to be getting up again.

She had killed her husband. The thought registered, but seemed unreal, like this whole night. She would have to process that. Later, though. For now, she had to do what the king couldn't and stop Blanche from hurting anyone else. Isobel figured she would have the guards collect her and put her in the dungeon, then Blanche could stand public trial for her crimes. The families of her victims deserved to know their loved ones' true fate.

"You must find her," Isobel said. "The others have failed, but as royal huntsman, surely you have skills they lack."

Willard ducked his head in acknowledgment - but the gesture was less respectful or deferential than he would have been to the late king. Isobel had become Queen Regent after the tragic accident that had claimed the rightful king and after Princess Blanche had disappeared, and Willard had no choice but to accept that, but it didn't mean he had to like it. Isobel was not of the royal bloodline, and as such, it rankled Willard that she now sat on the throne.

"You want me to bring her back?" Willard asked. Then hastily, he tacked on a grudging, "Your majesty?"

Isobel hesitated, then shook her head. Her plan to hold a trial for Blanche had seemed to be a good one, but in attempting to bring her back alive, Blanche had evaded them too many times, and too many soldiers had been lost. How many more sacrifices could she demand to preserve the life of a murderer?

"She must be killed," Isobel said. Even as she spoke the words, she hated how cold they sounded - but there was no other way. How many lives had already been traded for the sake of 'Snow White'? Isobel could not trade any more. "Bring back the body so that... so that I can be sure."

Willard rolled his eyes, then realized that he was going too far with the disrespect, even as tolerant as Isobel had so far been of her subjects' difficulty accepting a sudden new queen. "Apologies, your majesty. But that just isn't going to work. How am I supposed to drag a dead princess halfway across the kingdom? The weight alone will slow me down too much, and people will stare and question..."

"You're right," Isobel said. She had been a fool not to consider all that. "Bring me... bring me back her heart. That will suffice."

Disgusting as that was, that way she could ensure Blanche didn't escape yet one more time. Even Blanche could not survive without a heart.

Mallie's happiness with Diaval was short lived. It was only a few months after she took her mother's place as Queen of the Moors that her life would never be the same again. At first, it was just rumors, whispers. They would say King Henry was nothing like his father. That he wanted to conquer every kingdom that surrounded Perrault. Extend his land from sea to shining sea. Of course, many did not believe that. After all, King Henry already ruled one of the most powerful kingdoms on their continent. What did he have to gain by expanding his territories? More power, a greater legacy then King Richard had left, but the fairies didn't realize that until it was too late.

Once King Henry set his sights on the Moors he forbade his citizens from entering the Moors or trading with them. The fairies of the Moors were his enemies. And one did not make friendly with your enemy. Any human who still did was viewed as a traitor.

Mallie was upset to learn what the humans were doing. After all these years....King Henry was spitting on the peace their ancestors had created years ago. Her mother and his father were no doubt spinning in their graves. Mallie didn't want to start a war but...She had a feeling that she would not have an option. She would not allow King Henry to take her home from her.

"Your Majesty! You must come right away!"

Said Ayana, one of Mallie's closet friends. She had always been like a sister to Mallie, ever since they were kids. Which meant Mallie didn't like when Ayana called her so formally. Formality wasn't need by family and that's what she considered Ayana. Although she did not correct her friend. She could see the look of great concern on Ayana's face and flew to her side.

"Ayana? What is it?"

Ayana handed her a scroll. Ayana had read it first and was shaking from it.

"It is from King Henry of Perrault."

Mallie frowned and read it. She crumbled it up in anger. It said that King Henry was giving Mallie one option. She would surrender the Moors to him or he would take them by force.

"He will never get our home."

Mallie said, her blue eyes growing dark. Ayana looked at Mallie in fear. Not sure suddenly if she was more afraid of what King Henry would do or to see Mallie so angry. In all their years as friends, Ayana had never seen Mallie so angry.

"What are we going to do?"

"If King Henry wants a war. He will get one."

Mallie said with great determination. She would fight to defend the Moors until her last dying breath.

Mallie replied to King Henry's letter with one of her own. She refused to give him her land and told him that he could try to the Moors from her and her people but she would see to it he would fail. She had hoped he would realize a war was a foolish choice and accept that Perrault's territory did not have to be as large as his ego. However, the young Queen did not realize how far King Henry was willing to go.

"The bitch!"

Henry declared, throwing Mallie's scroll into the fire. He had hoped she would have been smart enough to realize she would not win a war with him but she must spend too much time in the clouds. If she wanted a war he would give her one. She would regret not giving him what he wanted. He would surpass his father's legacy. King Henry was destined to do so. He looked at his servant.

"Get a quill and ink. Now!"

The servant did as his king commanded and took a seat on the stool as King Henry said.

"The first order of business is a new law. The fairies of the Moors are now our enemy. We will be going to war with them. Any citizen of Perrault that is seen entering the Moors or fraternizing with a fairy will be seen as a traitor. And they will be executed."

The servant read back what he had wrote and once Henry approved of it, he had him take another scroll.

"And the second order of business is that I want word to be spread through out the kingdom that I need the young, brave men of Perrault to answer my call to arms. The one who leads my army to victory over Queen Mallie will be given my daughter's hand in marriage and be named my successor."

Henry wanted the Moors but he was not a fool. He knew he was old. Too old to lead his Army into the fairy forest. Instead, he needed another man to take the task. Besides, he had no son. His wife, who had passed on a few years ago, had only given him one living child. He loved Leah dearly but he needed a son. His son would be the man who defeated Mallie and took her kingdom.

The king's words spread like wildfire across Perrault and many a young man was more then willing to step to their Majesty's decree. King Henry was proud to see the bravery of his subjects and he was sure that soon Queen Mallie and her Moors would fall.

Mallie had hoped that King Henry would accept that he could not have the Moors, but when he never sent a reply back, she knew she had to prepare her fairies for war. It was not an easy task. Fairies were a peaceful species. They would rather help people, then harm them. Not a single fairy in the Moors could say they had ever killed anything before in their lives. But war was not something Mallie wanted but she was given no choice.

Mallie wondered how far she would have to go to protect her land and her people. The fairies only practiced good magic. Their ancestors had forbidden the use of dark magic. Although...Mallie knew where her mother had kept a book of dark magic. Queen Talia had kept it hidden. Locked away, hoping no one would ever have to use it. Talia had tried to even burn the book once, but it would not burn. On her deathbed, Talia had given Mallie the key to where she had hidden the book. Praying her child would never have to use it either.

Mallie didn't want to use it, but she did wonder if she had a choice. She kept the key on chain that she wore around her neck. She was fingering the key, complementing what to do about King Henry, when Ayana found her.

"Mallie!"

She didn't use any formality, which concerned Mallie greatly.

"Ayana? What-Diaval!"

Mallie had turned to speak to her friend and saw Diaval stumbling in the room. He had been badly beaten. Mallie rushed to her beloved's side.

"Diaval, who did this to you?"

"People from....Perrault....The king....He's raising an army to conquer....the Moors..."

Diaval said, coughing painfully and Mallie placed a hand on his chest. His heart beat was weak. She ordered Ayana to prepare a bed for him and get medicine.

"But he's so old."

Mallie said, not seeing as ambitious as Henry was how he could lead an army to the Moors. She would be able to defeat him. Diaval handed Mallie a crumpled up piece of a paper. It was a flyer, the king's call to arms.

"He...He is calling for....Young men to lead...it....The one who succeeds.....Will marry Princess Leah and become....the next king...."

Mallie frowned, an offer like that would surely bring lots of young men here. This war suddenly became much longer and more dangerous then she thought it would be. Ayana returned and helped Mallie get Diaval to the bed. As they tended to his wounds, Mallie asked.

"But, darling, you still did not tell me who did this to you?"

"A group of....thugs saw me....Trying to get into the forest...They tried to...."

He trailed off, feeling tired but more peaceful as the medicine began to heal him. He didn't need to say anymore. Mallie knew what he meant. The thugs had tried to kill him. She kissed his cheek, knowing now what she needed to do.

"Rest, my love."

Diaval nodded his head and fell asleep. She stood up and told Ayana.

"Keep an eye on him, Ayana."

"Of course, but...my Majesty, where are you going?"

"To make sure King Henry fails."

Mallie left Diaval in Ayana's care and went to her mother's bedchamber. It still looked the same as when Talia had left it. Mallie had not been able to enter it since her mother's passing. She just sent servants in to keep it clean. She walked to the fireplace in the room. In front of it, on the floor, was an ornate design of gold and flowers. In the center tile was a keyhole. Mallie took off her chain and used the key to unlock it. She lifted the tile and found a small box. After using the key again to unlock the box, she found the book.

"Forgive me, Mother, but I must do what I must to save the Moors from the cruel king."

She lifted the book out of the box and sat on the floor. With it, she was certain she could protect her people and land from King Henry.